


The Smell of Sulfur and Glycerins

by Vintage_Wine



Series: Waking Nightmare Series [1]
Category: Supergirl (TV 2015)
Genre: Alcohol Abuse/Alcoholism, Alex Danvers Needs a Hug, Cuddling & Snuggling, Emotional Hurt/Comfort, F/F, Post-Traumatic Stress Disorder - PTSD, Protective Kara Danvers, Protective Maggie Sawyer, Trauma
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-07-06
Updated: 2018-07-06
Packaged: 2019-06-06 09:20:25
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 1
Words: 6,469
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/15191678
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Vintage_Wine/pseuds/Vintage_Wine
Summary: Alex doesn’t feel the tears burning in her eyes or even when they start to leave trails down her cheeks, all she can concentrate on is that the thundering booms of the fireworks exploding in the sky seem to vibrate her to her core – rattling her apart at the seams and breaking her open to expose her vulnerabilities. Her hands have come up and covered her ears – palms pressing so hard against the shell of her ear that she should register the pain, but instead the only distress it causes her is that they don’t block out enough of the sound.Alex has a PTSD flare up around the 4th of July - the loud noises triggering memories of some of the traumatic things she's survived while working at the DEO. Maggie and Kara are both there to help her pick up the pieces and help her feel safe and loved.





	The Smell of Sulfur and Glycerins

**Author's Note:**

> The 4th of July with all the fireworks causes my PTSD to flare up pretty badly and it’s wrecked my ability to focus on writing and updating my other stories – so, I thought maybe it’d try to write it out and figured that Alex might be the most likely to share similar struggles.
> 
> Warnings: Graphic depictions of the aftermath of violence and the emotional fallout of surviving first responder related trauma.

Alex curses silently to herself as she paces around her lab restlessly, which has been a regular occurrence over the past few weeks. In the shared lab space one of the other lab techs drops a test tube that careens to the floor and shattering loudly causing Alex to startle so violently she’s sure she’s aggravated one of her old shoulder injuries. The tech looks just as startled, and Alex knows it wasn’t intentional but still she feels herself starting to bristle, anger lurking close by and hot under the collar of her tactical shirt as she snaps, “You want to watch what you’re doing there, recruit?”

“Yes ma’am,” the mousy young man is quick to answer, snapping to attention as he looks at her with a worried look.

“Well, be careful,” Alex grouches at him, “We work with deadly chemicals and other toxic substances that could kill both of us before we even figured out what was happening. Not get that cleaned up and try not cut yourself on the glass.”

“Yes ma’am,” the recruit states, already moving to get the equipment necessary to clean up the mess before the answer is completely out of his mouth.

Alex sighs in frustration, clenching her fists a bit as she looks back at the computer screen she’s been starring at off and on for the better part of the afternoon. It’s nothing in the way of life or death, but it’s what she’s supposed to have been doing since there weren’t any current missions to take priority. Instead, National City had been rather quiet leading up Independence Day – as if all the criminal enterprises, human and alien alike, had taken a break for the impending holiday.

Alex used to love the 4th of July, but the last few years the thought of the nights leading up to the holiday filled with explosions that happened at random put her nerves on edge and made her feel like she had to constantly look over her shoulder. She’d tried to work out her frustrations and building anger in the typical healthy ways – her morning runs had been bumped up from 5 miles to 8 miles instead. She’d spent more time in the green training room, working on hand to hand combat with anyone and everyone who needed a refresher course.

This morning she’d already taken no less than 15 fellow agents to the mats, and still after she’d been left to shower up in exhaustion she still couldn’t shake the uneasy, tense feelings that have left her on edge all day. She’d left several injuries in her wake this morning, a few sprained ankles and elbows, but she’d taken it a bit too far and accidentally dislocated Montoya’s shoulder. Hamilton hadn’t been happy about it but didn’t say anything about the string of agents that had taken up most of her morning with Alex inflicted injuries.

Alex wonders what she’s going to do this evening since Maggie’s pulling a long shift – one of the rare times the detective pulls a long 18-hour shift to help her fellow police officers pick up the slack during the holidays. Crossing her arms tight against her chest she feels like her skin is too tight and she has to resist the urge to claw at it viciously to get rid of the trapped and confining feeling it gives her. Instead of digging her nails further into her skin, leaving little crescent indentions, she settles for gripping them too tightly and hoping that they don’t bruise.

“Alex?” comes the deep, calm timbre of J’onn’s voice snaps her out of her reverie.

“Sir,” Alex asks quickly, quickly getting into a ready stance hoping that he’s there to tell her that something has come up and she’s required in the field. At least when she’s in the thick of an engagement she’s allowed to hone her mind on the task at hand – accomplish the mission, protect your ass, and cover your guys. It was easy to do, push her fears and unnecessary thoughts to the back of her mind and lose herself in the muscle memory that comes from years of training.

Alex has a feeling that there isn’t a mission since J’onn’s looking at her with what Kara would call his “Dad face.” Specifically, the face that makes her think that maybe she’s done something wrong even though she hasn’t really left the lab all day – so it can’t be a lecture about disobeying orders or putting herself in a dangerous situation unnecessarily.

“Stand down, Alex,” he assures with a soft smile as he looks over to see the new lab recruit finish cleaning up the mess he’d accidentally made. He notes that the young man is still giving Alex nervous glances so J’onn takes pity on him and orders easily, “Recruit Warren, Mr. Schott is in need of technical assistance downstairs.”

The young man is quick to snap to attention, looking very much relieved that he’s being dismissed from the lab as he responds dutifully, “Yes sir, director.”

The recruit nearly trips himself up in his haste to get out of the lab, knocking over a free standing case, which makes Alex grit her teeth together painfully hard as she feels her shoulders knotting up with tension. The young man rights the up ended case before scurrying away. Alex sighs again as J’onn comes closer, resting a heavy hand on her shoulder – which would normally be a comforting gesture that helps her keep grounded. But today it just seems to add to her irritation and she fights the urge to brush it off, and her thoughts about the matter must be particularly loud since she feels J’onn’s hand lift from her shoulder and he sighs softly before telling her, “You should go home and get some rest – and before you start to angrily protest – you will be the first person I call in if things go sideways.”

Alex wants to protest but she knows it’s a lost cause, J’onn would just get Lucy involved and honestly this wasn’t something to fight over. She’d just spend the last few hours of the day starring at the computer screen and angrily huffing to herself, whereas if she leaves now she can beat evening traffic and perhaps find a way to deal with her stress and anxiousness at home. So she just nods, “Yeah, but seriously if something comes up I’ll be right back.”

“I wouldn’t expect anything less,” J’onn says fondly with a smile and a little chuckle, he knows Alex is distressed – her thoughts had been particularly loud in the last week. He’d mentally got glimpses of fire and cloying dark smoke as well as the heart stopping sounds of gun fire and explosions the sounds so loud and jarring that he could almost feel the shockwaves rolling over his skin unpleasantly. He knows she likely wouldn’t want to talk about the trauma or her fears, but he feels like assuring her that he’s there to listen if she needs it, “Alex, if something is bothering you or you ever need to talk to someone about anything, I’m always here to listen.”

Alex is taken aback for a moment; she knows she hasn’t been as approachable in the past week but she didn’t think that she’d been so uncharacteristically ill-tempered that it was noticeable. She knows that something has been bothering her but it’s unclear what since her life so out of sync with its normal routine – Maggie pulling longer shifts due to the shortage of police officers during the high crime summer months and now Kara could usually be found cozied up with Lena at either one of their apartments when she wasn’t out doing Supergirl things. Not that Alex blamed her, Lena made Kara smile and laugh in a way that Mon-El never had and she was happy her little sister has found someone that complemented her well.

“I’m fine, J’onn. It’s just been a stressful couple of weeks,” Alex tries to assure, she knows something is wrong but she can’t quite place her finger on it – just like she can’t really give an accurate description of the feelings roiling around inside her.

“Okay,” J’onn says softly, dropping the subject since pursuing it any further would just further agitate Alex and make her defensive. So, he just smiles warmly at her and tells her, “Tell Maggie hello for me and try to drive at the speed limit on the way home.”

“Of course, sir,” Alex says with a grin as she shuts down her computer and grabs her jacket. Not bothering to change clothing she heads down to the parking garage and fires up her Ducati, slipping the helmet on before getting on the road. She feels some of the tension recede as she guides the bike onto the highway, picking up speed as she starts to cut through traffic – sometimes getting perilously close to large 18-wheeler trucks and other vehicles as she splits lanes. She gets home in record time, sweaty and flying high on the adrenaline from the speed and a couple closes calls she’d managed to skate through by the skin of her teeth.

As she enters her apartment she drops her keys on the counter and lays her helmet beside them, heading to the refrigerator to take out a beer. Not bothering with a bottle opener she scrapes her palm as she twists the cap off by hand, taking a long draught of the bitter tasting beverage before heading to her room to get changed. A passing police siren makes her tense up as she shrugs out of her jacket and tactical shirt, tugging on a soft sleep shirt and some sweatpants. Going to place her handguns in the nightstand on her side of the bed she thinks better of it – tucking the holstered back-up weapon into its place at the small of her back. A comforting reminder that should the unexpected happened she could take care of herself.

Flipping on the television she scans over the shows she and Maggie have recorded, draining the beer and setting it on the coffee table as she settles on a science documentary. She knows Maggie wouldn’t enjoy the documentary about birds so she picks out another beer and some of last night left over spaghetti before settling into the sofa. The hours stack up quite quickly along with the number of beers that Alex consumes, a few empty bottles lined up on the coffee table as well as the bottle of bourbon and her half empty glass of the amber liquid. By the time Alex hears the key slot into the lock on the door she’s well and truly got a buzz going on, her feelings and thoughts having finally quieted to a dull roar thanks to the alcohol.

Alex feels relieved when Maggie comes in, dropping her duffle bag by the door and turning a tired smile towards her. Getting up, a little wobble as she rounds the couch, Alex reaches for Maggie – not sure why she’s suddenly feeling like she needs to feel Maggie’s arms around her to feel whole and safe. Maggie smiles as she tugs Alex into her arms to hug her, more than happy to be physically affectionate with her girlfriend. Pressing a kiss to Alex’s lips she lets her hands slip down to rest over Alex’s sides to her waist and around to the small of her back. What she doesn’t expect is to feel are the straps of the hidden holster at the small of her girlfriend’s back, “Is that your service weapon, Danvers?”

Alex sheepishly realizes that she’d forgotten to take it off before Maggie got home, so she reaches back and slips the holstered hand gun out of her sweatpants, “Yeah, guess I was more tired than I thought.”

“Everything alright, babe?” Maggie asks following Alex into the bedroom area to take off her own weapon and tuck it away in the bedside table. Laying her badge and keys on top of the night stand, watching Alex do the same with her own weapon.

“Yeah, everything is fine – just got a little distracted is all,” Alex says softly as she moves closer, climbing up on the bed and reaching out to tug Maggie onto the bed with her.

Maggie notices that Alex couldn’t have forgotten to put away her back up weapon since she was already dressed in casual clothes that she sleeps in regularly. But she’s done stranger things like put the non-dairy milk in the cupboard and the box of cereal in the refrigerator when she’d finished with a 48-hour non-stop investigation. So she just lets Alex lead her to bed by the tee shirt, letting herself get lost in the deep, sensual kisses, gentle touches that leave her aching. After time spent undressing each other and taking their time with leisurely Maggie comes undone with a soft cry around Alex’s fingers with her lips pressing kisses possessively along her neck.

Maggie comes down from her post-orgasmic high and goes to return the favor, but Alex shakes her head – just cuddling closer and tucks her head under her chin. So Maggie just wraps her arms around the red head and pulls the covers over their naked bodies before pressing a kiss to her temple and wishing her sweet dreams. The two settle into sleep well enough until the early morning hours, Maggie wakes up thirsty and heads towards the kitchen to pour herself a glass of water. Sipping at the cool water she looks out the window, watching the sleeping city and the couple stray cars on the streets.

She listens to the sounds of the city, the dull pass of cars and sirens in the distance. But it’s the sound of a small whimper coming from the bedroom that draws Maggie’s attention immediately. Heading back in she arrives just in time to see Alex – brow beaded with sweat and delicate features pinched in distress – whimper again. Her whole body is tense, the lines of her muscles flexing as she clenches her fists and jerks about in the sheets – fighting an invisible enemy. Maggie quickly makes her way over to the bed, setting her glass down as she debates whether or not it’s a good idea to wake Alex up by shaking her.

“Alex? Alex, wake up,” Maggie calls gently, watching as Alex seems to recoil from her and her arms jerk out in front of her with a little cry to deflect an attack that isn’t coming. Maggie raises her voice to just be a low yell but keeps her tone calm and steady even though her heart if pounding painfully in her chest as she sees her lover struggling in the throughs of a nightmare, “Alex, baby, wake up. Alex, it’s just a dream and you need to wake up.”

Alex thrashes about, trapped reliving her time in the cell – the steady flow of water splashing down around her the cool liquid rising steadily up to her ankles and knees until suddenly her whole body is bobbing about in the water. The water is cold, leaving her chilled to the bone as she watches helplessly as the grating keeping her trapped in the cage comes closer and closer to her – eventually pressing her under the swiftly rising water as her lungs start to burn and ache. The last of her air running out as bubbles come out of her mouth and nose as she can’t help but exhale even though her brain is screaming in terror that the next lung full of air is just going to be water – she can’t cry or scream at the futility nor even thrash about as her limbs slowly get heavier and refuse to move at her command.

Maggie reaches for Alex with a soft curse, feeling that she’d rather have a few bruises if Alex fights her as she comes to awareness than let her continue this dream. Reaching over she takes Alex’s shoulders in her hands and tries to shake her as gently as possible while calling her name. Alex seems to snap out of the dream but not quickly enough to control her automatic response, right arm hooking up to swing at Maggie and making contact with her side causing her to grunt. Maggie for her part was expecting it but is no less surprised when it happens, quickly taking Alex’s arms in her own before she gets another blow in – vowing not to tell Alex about the bruise because she knows she’d be devastated about accidentally hurting Maggie. But Alex seems to come to awareness quickly, looking at her fists locked in Maggie’s hands and she quickly pushes away.

“Hey, it was just a nightmare, Alex,” Maggie tries to console, letting go and giving Alex some space as she seems to pull away. The fearful tears in Alex’s eyes break her heart and she watches as Alex does a once over of the apartment, looking around to make sure it was just them. “It’s just us, sweetheart. I promise.”

Alex shivers, still feeling the cold water that makes her skin prickle and sting and the pain in her shoulder flares. Unconsciously she reaches up and dips her fingers under her shirt collar, the pads of her fingers running over the raised scar on her shoulder where the tracker used to be – her rattled mind still expects fresh, warm blood to come away on her fingertips. Taking a breath, she looks over to see Maggie, precious and loving Maggie, holding her ribs and watching her carefully with a concerned look. Alex isn’t sure what happened during the nightmare and she’s almost too afraid to ask if she’s the reason Maggie’s hurt, all that comes out is a weak, soft whisper, “Maggie?”

“Hey,” Maggie tells her, putting on a warm, reassuring smile as she moves closer – relieved that Alex seems to be coming back to herself completely. Moving closer she tentatively reaches out a hand to the red head, hoping that Alex isn’t going to be upset again.

“I hurt you, didn’t I?” Alex asks, more tears welling up in her sad brown eyes really hoping that it isn’t true.

Maggie moves closer, drawing Alex into her arms and assuring her, “Hey, hey, it’s not bad and you didn’t mean to…must have been one hell of a nightmare.”

“Maggie, I’m so sorry.”

“No, no, no, I’m fine,” Maggie is quick to remind, lifting up the hem of her shirt to show Alex that her ribs are going to be fine before she draws Alex into her lap and rocks her gently. Alex melts into her embrace, leaning tiredly against her and Maggie’s even more worried as she presses gently, “Do you want to talk about it?”

“It’s nothing new,” Alex states as she closes her eyes and breathes in the familiar scent of Maggie, still trying to convince herself that when she opens her eyes again she won’t be magically transported back to the cell filling with water. Maggie’s hand in her hair and arm around her waist keeps her grounded and she feels safe enough to tell her, “It was the cell…and the water was rising…”

When Alex trails off Maggie just clutches her tighter, recalling how she thought that she’d been too late – watching Alex’s body bob just under the surface of the water lifelessly had been one of the worst moments in her life. Maggie is adamant and her voice rings with protectiveness as she speaks again with Alex wrapped up in her arms, “That will never, ever happen again, baby. I can promise you that.”

After an hour or so of soothing Alex manages to finally fall asleep again, but the day of July the 4th still keeps her on edge. Alex tries not to think about the potential of the fireworks show that’s going to happen that evening since Maggie’s been so excited about having the day off that she’d made romantic plans. As the clock ticks down to dinner Alex feels herself getting even more antsy and even jumpy as she gets dressed for dinner. She holds hands with Maggie as the two of them walk towards the waterfront to one of their favorite restaurants with the tiramisu that Maggie swears she could eat for all three meals every single day and never get tired of it. Alex manages to relax enough to enjoy dinner and avoid an upset stomach from all the stressing she’d been doing lately.

As the sun sets the couple strolls along the waterfront, Maggie’s teasing her about how the waitress they had had been checking her out a little less subtly than she thought – even though Alex was oblivious the whole time. At the pier the two are happy to talk easily with each other as they skip stones along the water while waiting for it to darken enough for the fireworks show to start. The crowds are gathering as Maggie manages to find them a couple snow cones to keep the cooled and hydrated as they find a free space to sit down and wait for the show to begin.

As it gets dark Alex feels like maybe she had been worried and irritated about nothing, leaning into Maggie’s side and feeling her fingers tickle along her side she starts to relax. However, when the patriotic music starts playing and the first set of artillery shells are launched into the sky Alex stifles a flinch as they watch the shells streak through the dark sky and burst into plums of red, white and blue. The second round of shells and Alex can feel her stomach turn violently and her hands shake as she grasps for Maggie’s. By the third her body and her brain have dissociated from each other and she’s getting up and moving away from the waterfront at an increasingly fast pace – not hearing Maggie calling her name in confusion.

Alex doesn’t feel the tears burning in her eyes or even when they start to leave trails down her cheeks, all she can concentrate on is that the thundering booms of the fireworks exploding in the sky seem to vibrate her to her core – rattling her apart at the seams and breaking her open to expose her vulnerabilities. Her hands have come up and covered her ears – palms pressing so hard against the shell of her ear that she should register the pain, but instead the only distress it causes her is that they don’t block out enough of the sound.

The next round of artillery shells lights up the sky with a variety of colors but all Alex sees is fire – red, orange angry torrents of flames shooting through the air. She can feel the heat on her skin and the flames licking at her heels even though Kara had managed to show up and cover her with her cape. But the nightmare didn’t end when the explosions stopped – it was just the beginning. As soon as Kara drew the cape away Alex could see the carnage that was left behind – still sees it when she closes her eyes sometimes. The images of her friends and teammates bodies burned savagely into her mind – bodies that were so maimed and disfigured that she couldn’t tell who was whom.

The smell of the gunpowder in the fireworks and acidic grey smoke that burns in her nostrils just reminds her even more of the smells in the warehouse. Sulfur and glycerin from the explosives and thick black smoke from the resulting fires. Scorched uniforms, vests torn open from the force of the blast and the same for the severed limbs. Tactical boots, soles slightly melted and charred, that weren’t attached to feet – or worse the ones that were. When the smoke had cleared the other smells assailed Alex’s nose – the smell of melted clothing and seared flesh that put her off eating for days.

She’d spend the hours following the catastrophe helping J’onn make death notifications to the family and loved ones of her team. She’d knocked on doors and stayed as calm and stoic as she told husbands and wives that their spouses weren’t coming home, and children that they weren’t going to see a parent again. She explained repeatedly that their loved one died in service of the United States during a classified mission – knowing full well that those families would forever be shattered not knowing how and why their family member died.

The days after the failed mission she spent her time with new agents, reclaiming remains from the crime scene and in the lab making positive identifications of each and every one of her agents. She’d done DNA testing, comparing the samples from the fragmented remains to those her men and women had on file. The entire hellish process of terror and pain was capped off with a weeks’ worth of funerals – with a sea of uniforms, flag draped caskets, and 21 gun salutes.

So locked in the memories of the ordeal Alex doesn’t feel Maggie hands resting over hers trying to block out the sound as well – she also doesn’t hear her calling her name and trying to snap her out of her dissociative moment.  So instead she presses her hands harder against her ears, repeating to herself desperately, “Make it stop, please make it stop…please.”

Maggie’s heart plummets – momentarily unsure how to respond as her normally stoic, badass girlfriend dissolves into terrified tears. Carefully she takes Alex by the arm and guides her away from the happily cheering crowds and the constant explosions of fireworks overhead. Alex stumbles, her eyes clenched shut and her whole body trembling so violently Maggie’s worried she may just collapse. She pulls one of Alex’s arms away from her head and over her shoulder, wrapping an arm around her waist as she talks to her patiently, “Alex, I’m going to make it stop. I promise, just stay with me honey.”

Maggie quickly guides Alex towards an alley way, cutting behind the building and leaving behind some of the noise in their wake. She gets Alex down a couple blocks and sits her down on the steps of a building, Alex is completely broken up and sobbing into her hands.

“Just focus on your breathing, Alex,” Maggie instructs calmly, her tone of voice is soothing and gentle, “Take a deep breath in and hold it for a moment, now let it out. Good, now do it again.”

Alex tries to get her breathing to even out, feeling like she’s on the verge of hyperventilating as she tries to match the pace of her breathing with Maggie’s. Maggie has wrapped her arms around her shoulders and rests her head against Alex’s, talking to her softly, “It’s okay now, Alex. You’re safe now, baby.”

“But why?” Alex croaks out, heels of her hands pressed into her eyes as she tries to fight off the growing throbbing at her temples. She’s given up on trying to keep her body from shaking and stop the tears that continue to keep falling.

“Why?” Maggie asks in confusion, not sure what Alex is asking but her gut is telling her that this conversation is going to go to places that both she and Alex don’t want to go.

 “Why am I here?!” Alex demands angrily, cheeks flushed red and wet with tears. “Why am I the one that’s safe?”

It clicks instantly for Maggie – the many close calls that Alex has had and the few times Alex had allowed her to accompany her to solemnly marked gravestones. She recognizes the past couple weeks of Alex’s irritability, sleepless nights, excessive drinking and overly tense, cautious behavior for what it is – post traumatic stress. The guilt that Alex is starting to process and vocalize about is just another complicated aspect of surviving traumatic events. Pressing her lips to Alex’s temple as she feels tears well up in her own eyes she tells her honestly, “No one is going to be able to answer that, Alex, no one… We do a dangerous job, we knew that when we signed up, but it’s unpredictable and it doesn’t make sense and the more you think about it and try to reason it out the less and less sense it makes.”

“The only reason I’m not vaporized right now or drowned in a tank and laid in a lonely grave right now is just plain fucking luck,” Alex rants even though her voice is breaking and more tears drain down her cheeks, another sob heaving from her chest as she still tries to make sense of something that is just never going to make sense, “I was lucky that Kara found me in time, every time – but why did I get lucky? Why not Marsden – she had two kids and a husband? Or Saldana, he had just started with the DEO and had his whole life ahead of him. Why me and not them, it doesn’t make any sense?!”

“Baby, it’s never going to make sense,” Maggie whispers just as brokenly, recalling the near constant losses she suffered in Gotham. She also knows the endless questions she had asked herself in the dead of night while she stared at the ceiling wondering how she’d been the one lucky enough to survive the day’s events.

“I need to know why, Mags. It doesn’t make sense and I need it to make sense,” Alex whimpers, even though she knows it’s like that she’s never going to get any answers as to why she survived the explosions and other dramatic shoot outs with Cadmus and super beings alike. She thinks briefly of Astra, her sword piercing the Kryptonian’s chest and the blood that thick and sticky on her fingers – blood on her hands telling her that she’s not so innocent in all of this and furthering her guilt.

Maggie can only tell Alex what Kate Kane had told her after a particularly rough week in Gotham had left her raw and reeling from the numerous traumas they’d suffered, “I’m sorry, Alex, but trauma never makes sense – no one can explain why it happens just like no one can explain why one person survives and another person doesn’t. There’s no right or wrong about it, you survived and that’s what matters. We’ll work through this together, and I promise it will get better.”

Alex sobs quietly as she curls into Maggie, completely exhausted from her flashback and subsequent panic attack. Before Maggie can figure out how she’s going to get Alex back to the apartment Kara shows up as if on cue – a panicked, almost frightened look on her face as she quickly makes her way over to her sister, calling to her softly, “Alex?”

“Do you think you could bring us home?” Maggie asks with a warm smile, Kara looks like she want to demand an explanation now so she adds, “I promise I will explain everything as soon as we get back, but I’d really like to get Alex out of here.”

Kara nods as the fireworks finale starts to go off, the series of blasts in the distance startle Alex who is just now realizing that Kara’s there. The blonde kneels down and brushes hair tenderly from her sister’s face, wiping tears away with her thumbs as she tells her with a warm smile, “Hey sis, you ready to go home?”

Alex nods quickly, reaching out to wrap her arms around Kara and hugging her fiercely. After some maneuvering Kara manages to get them back to the apartment and Maggie is quick to take the blanket off the back of the couch and wrap Alex up in it before settling her down with Kara. Collecting a few bottles of water, she settles back down with the Danvers women, holding the bottle so that Alex can drink small sips of the water. Alex is still shaking as she leans tiredly against Kara’s chest, nose pressed to her neck as she tugs Maggie until her girlfriend is pressed tightly against her back.

“How did you know?” Alex asks softly, feeling her body tense as a few bottle rockets explode in the street below – she knows it’s most likely just teens fucking around but her psyche is still fragile and wants to slip back into hypervigilant mode.

Kara can feel her sister tensing in response to the noise outside, tenderly she rubs her shoulders gently as she explains a bit sheepishly, “I know you told me not to, but sometimes I can’t help but listen for your heartbeat – you know, it makes me feel better when I know you’re safe. But, this evening – you sounded scared, like you were in danger and I was concerned. Are you okay to talk about what happened?”

Alex is quiet for a good while, almost to the point where both Maggie and Kara share looks with each other asking with their eyes if Alex considers the topic off limits. But soon enough Alex speaks again, her voice so quiet and shaking that it doesn’t even sound like her, “The fireworks – the sounds and the smells – it just reminded me so much of the trap in the warehouse… Non’s traps that killed a lot of agents and some of Lane’s men. It was just too much…”

“Was it just tonight?” Kara asks softly, knowing that Alex had been rather distant and short with her in the past few weeks. She shares another look with Maggie over the top of Alex’s head, seeing a certain weariness and concern on the brunette detectives normally beaming features.

Alex knows that she can’t keep struggling with these thoughts and feelings by herself anymore, even though she knows that she shouldn’t be struggling so much with these things. She hates herself even more for having issues now – she’s been through a lot and yet it only seemed to be a problem for her now. She’s also uneasy about saying it out loud, that if she tells Kara and Maggie about the almost daily nightmares and recurring flashbacks that then it would be real – it would have a name and have to be dealt with in a healthier manner which also frightens her. But she decides to just bite the bullet and mutters, “No, it hasn’t been just tonight…it’s just nightmares and flashbacks. Nothing new when it comes to working as a first responder.”

“You mean like post-traumatic stress?” Kara asks, eyes widening at the implications but she feels Alex flinch at what she’d said.

Maggie is quick to press a kiss to Alex’s shoulder, rubbing her arms as she explains, “Hey, sweetheart, it’s nothing to be ashamed of or feel guilty about. With the things we see day in and day out, surviving things that our friends and teammates haven’t, that constant fear that something bad it right around the corner waiting for us is a lot of trauma to deal with every day. There’s no shame in being scared or needing some time to recover.”

“Have you ever thought about maybe talking to someone about these…episodes?” Kara asks after a pause, concerned that Alex would just go back to bottling things up until the next time her emotions would get the better of her. Or worse, dealing with her emotions through copious amounts of alcohol like she did during college while dealing with Jeremiah’s death.

“Wait, so are you suggesting I go to counseling?” Alex balks, a dubious, almost fearful look on her face. She remembers the time her mother had taken her to see a counselor after her father died, just the potential of being back in vulnerable position has her anxious and uncomfortable again.

“This line of work takes a mental toll on everyone, if you don’t take care of yourself it has the power to destroy you. Talking these things out with a therapist and working out some coping mechanisms will allow you to take care of yourself and heal parts of you that were damaged during those traumatic events,” Maggie explains calmly, for both Alex and Kara’s benefit. She also knows that there’s a lot of stigma surrounding mental illness – especially PTSD – among first responders. She also suspects that Alex has likely internalized that mentality and decides to share about her own experiences, “I’m not going to force you to go to therapy, but I will be the first to say I’ve had my fair share of trauma to work through – and despite my reservations about it at first it turned out to really help. But whatever you decide, know that Kara and I are always going to be here for you.”

Kara feels like Alex needs some additional comfort and encouragement so she tells her earnestly, “We will always be here for you, Alex. And I’m sure J’onn would too if you explained it to him.”

“I’m not ready for that,” Alex mutters softly, knowing it’s going to take some time for her to really get used to this concept much less to share something that seems too personal and vulnerable with anyone else.

“That’s okay, no pressure, maybe just talk to me and Kara – let us know when you feel like you’re going to crash. We love you and just want to be there to help you through it,” Maggie assures, ruffling Alex’s short hair affectionately before she gets up as she suggests that they head to bed. She notices that Kara’s looking a little nervous and like she doesn’t want to leave yet so she tells her, “Come on little Danvers, Alex has some sweats you can wear.”

Kara gets up to go and find some clean sleepwear for both herself and call Lena that everything was going to be okay – especially since she’d left in a panic with little explanation. Dialing the number, she hears Lena pick up right away and immediately ask if she and Alex are okay. Kara’s quick to assure her that the crisis is over and that she’d explain what happened to her later if Alex was okay with that. Maggie talks privately with Alex for a moment before guiding her to the bedroom. The three of them tiredly pulling on tank tops and sweats before Maggie guides Alex to curl up in the middle of the bed. Getting in she pulls up the covers, letting Alex curl up to her and rest her head on her shoulder and press her nose against her neck. Kara climbs into the bed as well, curling up to press her face against her sister’s shoulder and wrap and arm around her waist.

“Get some rest, Alex,” Maggie whispers before seeing a pair of blue eyes peeking over Alex’s shoulder where she can’t help but smile as she states, “You too, Kara.”

 


End file.
